A Timely Romance
by ForbiddenFruits
Summary: Dumbledore held the time turner out to Hermione, "You're right, Miss Granger. We can't bring him back…but what if we could fix everything? How far would you go to save your friend?"
1. Chapter 1: The Funeral

**Author's Note 1: **Hey guys! I've read a ton of fanfiction stories, but this is the first one I've written. Any reviews and feedback would be much appreciated! This story has been sitting in my head for a while, but I've never gotten it down on paper. But today, when I was supposed to be studying for my finals, I just couldn't get it out of my head. Hope you enjoy it! I'll try to update every week or so :)

**Author's Note 2: **I don't own Harry Potter. I'm just a poor college student. Don't sue me.

They sat in solemn rows in the great hall. What was usually filled with joyful banter and hanging flags representing each Hogwarts house was now filled with tearful gazes, solemn faces, and black drapes. Hermione sat with her head on Harry's shoulder, tears pouring down her face. It was never supposed to be this way. They were only fourteen. They should be racing each other on the Quidditch pitch or studying for their Potions exam, not mourning the loss of one so young. Hermione clasped her hand in Harry's, and he rubbed her arm comfortingly, barely able to restrain the tears himself. Hermione glanced at Harry and saw the stubborn tilt of his jaw, the guilt flooding his eyes. She knew it wasn't his fault, but no matter what she or anyone else told him he still blamed himself.

"Today we gather to honor a fallen hero, a fallen friend," Dumbledore spoke, "A friend that was taken far before his time. Today we honor Draco Malfoy. Draco was a person who exemplified many of the qualities which distinguish the Slytherin house, and many which do not. He was ambitious, a student at the top of his classes, yet he was also kind. Many of you were tutored by Mr. Malfoy and can speak of the countless hours he aided you in your studies. He was cunning, a trait that frequently landed him in my office." A few of the students snickered, remembering some of Draco's more famous exploits. "His cunning, however, was used to help his friends. You see, Draco Malfoy believed in friendship above all else. This can certainly be seen by his friendship with the other two members of the 'Silver Trio,' as they are have been called, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. Both of which have come to speak in honor of Draco. Mr. Potter?"

Harry stood, a determined glint in his eyes as he stood behind the podium. Taking a few breaths to calm his emotions he began, "Draco Malfoy was the best mate a guy could wish for. When I met him for the first time in Diagon Alley, I knew next to nothing about the wizarding world. He helped me. He offered his friendship, and I accepted. I know many of you were shocked when we became friends, because of our parents' history in the first wizarding war. Let me set the record straight. Draco Malfoy is not to be held accountable for his parents' mistakes. He is…was…nothing like them. He would sacrifice everything for his friends, and he did. He sacrificed himself to save me, and I will never stop owing him for that." He looked down at Draco's coffin and whispered, "Goodbye, mate."

Harry stepped down and returned to his seat. Hermione clutched his hand once and then rose to stand behind the podium.

"Many of you remember when I was first sorted into Slytherin. I am the first and only Muggle-born to ever be sorted there. And to be honest, I never expected to be sorted there. When I first met Harry and Draco on the Hogwarts Express and told them about myself, I expected the Sorting Hat to sort me into either Ravenclaw or perhaps Gryffindor. You see, I believed many of the rumors and myths about the 'evilness' of Slytherin. And then Draco told Harry and I about Slytherin. I mean the truth behind it. Slytherin was not a place of pureblood supremacy and sneakiness, but a place of ambition, determination, and loyalty to those you love—a loyalty so pure that you would do anything in the world to protect those you love. A loyalty that led to the recent death—no, murder—of Draco Malfoy." She choked up a bit and took a moment to dry her eyes.

"You see, Draco was the best friend and boyfriend a girl could have. He would have sacrificed himself in an instant to save Harry or I, and he did. When he pushed Harry out of the way of the killing curse and took it himself, he did so out of loyalty, out of friendship, out of love. Because that was who Draco Malfoy was. A friend. A best friend. A friend that we honor here today, who will never be forgotten."

She stepped off the stage and ran out of the Great Hall, sobs pouring out her of throat. She ran without even thinking of where she was going and eventually collapsed against a cold stone wall. It wasn't long before Harry joined her and sat down beside her.

"How did you find me?" she asked softly.

"I'm a Slytherin, Hermione. I know these secret passageways like the back of my hand. The three of us used to sneak around them frequently enough for me to know this is exactly where you would have gone."

"And now it's just the two of us," she sniffled.

Harry was silent, but put his arm around Hermione's shoulder and held her close.

"He would have hated that funeral you know." She said. "All of those people crying and talking about how much they missed him when they barely spoke to him when he was alive. Filthy hypocrites."

"But he would have loved what you said," Harry whispered.

"You wanna know what the last thing he said to me was?" Hermione asked, "The last thing he said to me was 'I love you.' And I didn't say it back." She began to sob. "Why-why didn't I say it back? I thought there would be so much more time. And now, I'll never get to say it to him."

Tears began to fall down Harry's face. "It's my fault he's dead. That curse was meant for me. It should have been me!"

"Harry, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known he was going to push you out of the way. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Harry silently sobbed for a few minutes before eventually calming down.

"I saw him again."

Hermione wrinkled her forehead. "What are you talking about?"

"After he died, I saw him once more, spoke with him."

Hermione sat up straight. "What do you mean, Harry? Like a ghost?"

"Not exactly. When Voldemort's wand and mine connected, all of the people he had killed—their spirits came flooding out of the wand. I saw my parents and I saw him."

"Oh Harry," she cried, "What did he say?"

"We didn't have long, seconds really, but he told me he was glad he did it. He was glad he saved me, and that to he loved you, and for me to take care of you and bring his body home." Harry began sobbing again in earnest.

Hermione began crying again as well. They simply sat there, leaning against the cold stone wall and held each other for hours.

Eventually, their tears dried and they returned to their common room. From there they separated with Harry going to the boys' dormitory and Hermione to the girls'. When she entered the room, all talking ceased, with everyone staring at her sympathetically. She lay down on her bed while Pansy on the bed next to her wondered if she should say something. As Hermione turned her back to the girls and lay on her side facing the wall, Pansy decided to give Hermione some privacy and ushered the other girls in their year out of the room. As Hermione lay staring at the photograph of her, Draco, and Harry after they won the Quidditch championship last year, a single tear slid down her face.

_"And Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Slytherin has won the Quidditch Championship!" Zacharius Smith shouted out from the announcer's box._

_ Hermione, who was playing chaser, flew down to where Harry stood in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, the snitch held triumphantly in his right hand. She landed on the ground and threw her arms around Harry, with Draco landing and doing the same not two seconds later with his beater bat in one hand. Someone snapped a picture at that moment as they hugged each other and screamed that they won the cup. _

She would never play Quidditch again. That was their thing and she knew that she could not—would not—play without him. It was a long time before she fell asleep, her dreams plagued by visions of the Silver Trio playing Quidditch with Voldemort suddenly appearing and cursing Draco, causing him to plummet to his death. In her dream, no matter how fast she flew she could not save him.

In the dormitory across from the girls', Harry lay on his back in his bed with the bed curtains pulled around, effectively shutting him off from the world around him. He lay there unmoving, thoughts racing through his head. It was his fault. No matter what Hermione or even Draco had said, he knew the truth. Voldemort had aimed for him. He should be dead right now, not Draco. After everything Draco had done, from being disowned by his parents for being friends with 'the Potter boy and the filthy little mudblood' to being chosen to be a Triwizard champion along with Harry, Draco did not deserve to die like that in a graveyard by Voldemort. It wasn't fair! God, it wasn't fair…

The next morning, both Harry and Hermione were awakened by the head boy and head girl telling them that Dumbledore needed to see them immediately. They met in the common room, both of their eyes still swollen and rimmed with red. Wordlessly, they took each other's hand and made the long trek to Dumbledore's office. After saying the password "Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Bean" to the gargoyle, they entered the headmaster's office, to find Dumbledore with his back facing them.

"You wished to see us Headmaster?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore turned around. His face was solemn, and there were deep bags under his eyes. It appeared as if he had not slept at all last night. Harry and Hermione knew the feeling.

"Yes, yes. I am sorry to bother you both after such a trying day yesterday, I am afraid what I have to say is of the utmost importance."

"What is it, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Is this about Voldemort?" Harry questioned.

"I'm afraid so, Harry. As both of you know, Voldemort has returned. But what you do not know, is that this came as no surprise to me."

"What are you talking about, Headmaster? You knew he would come back two days ago?"

"Not exactly, Mr. Potter. Let me start from the beginning. For the past four years, there have been rumors—murmurings of Voldemort's return. I did not believe them at first, but they have gotten stronger; fear had begun to spread. Surely the two of you heard whisperings of such?"

They looked at each other and both nodded.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and continued, "About a year ago, I began to consult the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. Do you two remember Firenze?"

They both smiled.

"Yes, Headmaster," Harry replied, "He saved the three of us when we snuck into the Forbidden Forest on a dare and encountered that werewolf. What about him?"

"Well, the centaurs have been studying the stars and the signs in the sky for millennia now and have become quite adept at predicting the future. I have been talking to them concerning things to come, and a startling sign was discovered. To put it simply, three silver stars in a perfect triangle came into contact with Mars in the sky. Soon thereafter, one star burned out. This star was very important for it was the star that shone the brightest. The other two stars reflected its light. But once it was burnt out, the other two stars' lights began to fade; yet, the light of Mars grew stronger and stronger. Eventually, the other two silver stars could not be seen, and Mars remained the brightest star in the sky."

Hermione interjected, "Three silver stars—the Silver Trio. Draco is dead, just like the star. According to the astrological signw, Harry and I will be soon as well, won't we, Headmaster? And then Voldemort will take over the Wizarding World."

"That is exactly what we are trying to prevent, Miss Granger. I have spoken with several seers, and after numerous failed attempts, one seer was able to offer a prophecy. She said, 'The world is held upright by a three-stranded cord. A three-stranded cord is not easily broken. Yet once it is, the other two shall ravel as well, and the world shall perish. Right the wrongs which have been done. Restore the cord, and you shall heal humanity of the scourge.'"

"But Professor, there is no way to 'restore the cord.' Draco is dead. We can't bring him back," Hermione sniffled.

Dumbledore reached under his robes and pulled out a long golden necklace with an hourglass in it.

Dumbledore held the time turner out to Hermione, "You're right, Miss Granger. We can't bring him back…but what if we could fix everything? What would you do to save your friend?"

**Author's Note: **So what do you think so far? Love it? Hate it? Either way leave a review!

(P.S. Positive reviews make me update faster!)


	2. Chapter 2: The Time Keeper

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! I know I said I would update within a week, but I got the flu and it put me behind a few days. But the good news is I'm feeling much better and have spent the last hour finishing this chapter. This story is coming along much better in my head than I thought it would, but I'm always open to suggestions about what you think should happen next. So feel free to review or pm me with your thoughts! Oh and by the way, I still don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Two:

Dumbledore held the time tuner out to Hermione, "You're right, Miss Granger. We can't bring him back…but what if we could fix everything? How far would you go save your friend?"

Hermione accepted the time turner from Dumbledore and turning it over in her hand, said, "Is this a time turner, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore shook his head and replied, "Close Miss Granger, but not exactly correct. Look a little closer."

He handed the necklace to Hermione. She perused it for a moment, turning it over in her hand.

"It looks like…but no, it couldn't be that…" She appeared puzzled.

Meanwhile, Harry was glancing back and forth between the two before he finally asked, "Well, what is it exactly?"

Dumbledore smiled and answered, "I believe Miss Granger knows what it is. Why don't you enlighten us?"

Hermione looked up and then glanced down at the object once more before replying, "Well, I've read of an object like this, but it was believed to be destroyed over nine hundred centuries ago…" Seeing Dumbledore's encouraging look, she continued, "It is called a time keeper. It was the prototype, of sorts, to time turners."

Harry looked confused. "Could someone please explain to me what's going on? What's a time turner?"

Hermione was quick to answer. "A time turner is a magical object capable of transporting their user or users back in time with a simple turn of the hourglass. Each turn corresponds to one hour. The time turner is a useful, but also dangerous device. Bad things happen to witches and wizards that mess with time too frequently, Harry. If someone was to go back in time a day, for example, and meet their younger self, their younger self could believe the person to be an imposter and attack or even kill the time traveler. There have been numerous accounts of such a thing happening.

"The time keeper, on the other hand, operates a bit differently. With a time turner, the younger version of oneself and the time traveling version exist simultaneously, both interacting with the world that the time traveler traveled to at the same time. With the time keeper, however, only the time traveled version exists; the younger simply disappears. Additionally, the time traveling witch or wizard's age is changed to fit the current time period. Therefore, it is vital that the user know the exact number of turns needed, because when the user is transported back in time they are changed to the age they were in the time they went to. It is of the utmost importance that a witch or wizard never travel to before or after their time because then they would simply cease to exist. The time keeper was thought to be destroyed during the time of William the Conqueror, although apparently it wasn't…" Hermione noticed Dumbledore smiling at her with an amused look on his face. "Sorry, Headmaster. I guess I got a little carried away."

"It's quite alright, Miss Granger. You explained the device expertly." He turned his head to the side a bit. "The sorting hat considered placing you in Ravenclaw, didn't it?"

"Yes, and Gryffindor as well. But in the end, my ambition won out," she replied.

"Excuse me, Headmaster, but what exactly is it that you want us to do?" Harry asked.

"Well, that is the question, isn't it. To put it simply, I wish the two of you to go back in time and right the wrongs of the past, to stop a disaster before it can ever begin," Dumbledore replied, "You see, I have been consulting the centaurs about just this, about how we might prevent the three silver stars from meeting Mars in the sky, and the answer was quite clear. You see, these stars appeared in the sky approximately fourteen years ago. Each star traveled in its own path, quite independent of the other two. But four years ago, their paths crossed, and the stars seemed to latch onto one another, and traveled together from then on. To prevent the stars from meeting Mars, they must never attach to one another."

"We would never be friends with Draco," Hermione muttered and then replied more strongly, "That's it! We go back in time and reject Draco's friendship. He continues his life, he'll get to live, and the stars will never connect together…"

"Hang on," said Harry, "Let me get this straight. You want Hermione and I to travel back in time, never become friends with Draco, and live the past four years over again?"

"That is precisely it, Mr. Potter."

"Bloody hell," Harry cursed, "But Professor, won't that be quite difficult to do seeing as we're all in Slytherin? Even if we reject his friendship, being in the same house is bound to make us closer to one another."

"That is precisely why you must not be sorted into Slytherin. Harry, you were given a choice, correct?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded his head. "The Sorting Hat told me I was suited for either Slytherin or Gryffindor. I chose Slytherin because of what Draco had told me."

"This time you **must **choose Gryffindor," Dumbledore replied, "And you Miss Granger, what did the sorting hat say to you exactly?"

_Hermione Granger stood in line with the other first years, anxiously waiting in line to be sorted. When her name was called, she practically ran to the stool and slammed the hat on her head, not wanting to wait even a moment more to be sorted._

"_Well, well, well," the Sorting Hat whispered in her head, "Very interesting. Lots of kindness, I see, yet certainly not suited for Hufflepuff. You're far too determined to be the best. Doesn't suit well in a house of loyalty. And quite a bit of intelligence and logic. You would do well in Ravenclaw. And you have bravery and nerve in spades. Well, you're certainly not afraid of anyone, are you? Hmm…but where to put you?"_

_The Sorting Hat sat on her head for over two minutes as it plundered through her thoughts and emotions, the very core of her being._

"_What's this?" it asked. "You have ambition like I have rarely seen. You are determined to be great, aren't you? Yet, to place you in Slytherin…you would be the first muggle-born in history to go there. How do you feel about that?"_

_The first muggle born in history, she thought. She rather liked the sound of that. It made her feel important, special even, and she remembered what the boy on the train had told her about Slytherin._

"_I would like that very much," she answered._

"_So be it," the Sorting Hat replied before shouting, "Slytherin!"_

Hermione answered Dumbledore, "I was given a choice, too. The Sorting Hat said I would fit almost perfectly in Slytherin, but because of my blood status, gave me a choice to be there."

"And what did it say of the other houses?" Dumbledore inquired.

"It was a definite no for Hufflepuff, but the hat said that I had logic and intelligence suited for Ravenclaw and bravery and nerve suited for Gryffindor," she replied, still lost in the memory of her sorting.

Dumbledore thought for a moment before replying, "That is what you must focus on then. When you are sorted, you must focus on your bravery and nerve. The two of you and Mr. Malfoy have been in my office enough times for me to know a great deal about your bravery and nerve. When the Sorting Hat is placed on your head, you must think of all of your exploits—the time you three managed to trap the troll in the dungeon during your first year…the time you hunted the basilisk when the Chamber of Secrets was open…" Seeing Hermione's look of objection, Dumbledore said, "Even though you were petrified, it still took great courage and nerve to hunt the creature. Every feat and deed that you have done during the past four years must be at the forefront of your mind when you are sorted again."

Harry asked, "But won't the Sorting Hat be able to see our memories and know that we have traveled back in time? Won't that cause problems with the whole secrecy bit of the plan?"

"Contrary to popular belief, the Sorting Hat cannot actually read your mind. It hears whatever you want it to hear, and it can sense your emotions and your core values. It uses all three to place a student in a house."

Hermione then cut in, "Okay Headmaster, so we both get sorted into Gryffindor. Then what?"

Dumbledore smiled gently and pulled out a rather large leather bound journal out of his desk and handed it to Hermione.

"This book contains everything that the four years younger version of me will need to know. The two of you are to bring this to me as soon as you get the chance once you arrive at Hogwarts and have been sorted in your houses. Do not open it, and do not read it. I will tell you what you need to know as the need arises. Now, as for what you need to know for now…"

He turned to Harry. "Harry, whatever you do, do not become Draco's friend. Once you are sorted into Gryffindor, try to make friends with the people there."

Harry sneered, a habit he had picked up from Draco. "But Headmaster, I'm a Slytherin. The Gryffindors hate us; they think we're all evil deatheaters in training. How can you expect me to become friends with the whole lot?"

"Don't judge the house by the extremists, Harry. I was a Gryffindor myself and can vouch that it is a fine upstanding house that, like all houses, has rivalries with other houses that can sometimes go too far."

"My apologies, Headmaster. I forgot you were a Gryffindor," Harry said sheepishly.

"Quite alright, my boy. Now back to the instructions…" He looked at both Hermione and Harry. "Reject all advances for friendship on the part of Mr. Malfoy. Do your absolute best to get sorted into Gryffindor. It will make it easier for the you two not to become friends with Draco if you are in Slytherin's rival house. Also, you two should not appear too friendly with one another at first. You make speak freely when you are alone and are absolutely certain no one is around, but when you are in public for the first several weeks at least, you should be cordial but not overly friendly to one another.

"You will have regular meetings with me to discuss your adjustment to the time travel, as well as what you should and should not be doing and how you should be behaving, considering the circumstances. Additionally, you will remember everything from these past four years. Therefore, you must be extremely careful about what you do and say. Miss Granger, I know that you are the head of your class right now, and I wouldn't dream of telling you to not to be, but you must be careful not to excel too much. Do not raise suspicions. The same goes to you on the Quidditch pitch, Mr. Potter.

"Every move you make, everything you say must be carefully considered for the truth of what we are doing here must never be known. Can you handle that?"

Dumbledore looked at them expectantly. Harry and Hermione looked over at each other before nodding assertively.

"We can, Headmaster. For Draco," Harry answered in a strong voice.

"For Draco," Hermione repeated.

**Author's Note:** So what did you think? I know this story is starting off kind of slow with it mainly being dialogue in this chapter, but I promise it's gonna start moving much faster in the next few chapters. Which reminds me, they will be time traveling in the next chapter so be sure to keep an eye on this story because I will try to update within a week but definitely within two weeks. Leave a review and I might update even faster! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3: Memories

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! As you can see, I changed the name of this story from "The Time Turner" to "A Timely Romance." The new title just seems to fit the story better. I am really sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. School has been kicking my butt this semester. I will try my best to update as frequently as possible, but it won't always be within two weeks. As always, please leave a review to let me know what you think, and I still don't own Harry Potter.

Hermione and Harry silently strode down the halls of Hogwarts, each lost in their own thoughts. Dumbledore had instructed the pair to each pack a single trunk and return to his office in an hour.

"Everything's going change…" Hermione murmured.

Harry took her hand. "But Draco will be alive."

"He'll be alive but who knows what's going to happen now, Harry. How are we supposed to pretend we hate him? He's your best friend, Harry, and my boyfriend!" Hermione shouted in exasperation, "How can I go back and look him in the eye and make an enemy of one of my best friends?"

Harry ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. "I don't know, Hermione…But I do know this: If we do this, we'll not only be saving Draco's life but the future of the wizarding world as well."

"Merlin…We're only fifteen…We should be playing Quidditch with Draco right now or sneaking into the Forbidden Forest on a dare, not saving the world! I mean, do you hear how insane this all sounds?"

Hermione sunk down on a bench outside the castle dungeons and held her head in her hands, taking deep breaths. Harry sat down beside her and gently took her hands in his.

"Mione, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm freaking out. I know that this is absolutely insane, and there's no way that we'll make it out of this without needing psychiatric counseling, but what choice do we have? And at least we'll have each other," Harry said gently.

Hermione slid her hand across her cheek, wiping away an errant tear.

"You're right, Harry, of course. We'll survive this, and we'll be together, that's the important thing. Thank you, Harry," she responded, before giving him a quick hug and rising to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, "I'll see you in an hour then."

Hermione touched the serpent's emerald eye that habitually crawled across the entrance to the Slytherin house and then whispered open in Parsel Tongue which she had been practicing for weeks now. The door slowly swung open, and she entered to find the common room virtually empty, everyone having already left to make the train home. She entered the now bare bedroom that she had shared with the seven other fourth year girls and sank down on her bed.

After a few deep breaths, she set to work, pulling out a large leather trunk from under her bed. She began to rifle through her things, each one bringing up a poignant memory of times past. Opening her trunk, she placed her first item in the very bottom—her Slytherin tie.

_Her first few weeks in Slytherin had been very difficult. Being the first Muggleborn to ever be placed in Slytherin hadn't gotten her the fame and prestige that she had hoped for; instead, all she had received were hate-filled glares and muttered hexes behind her back._

_She was in the common room one day a few weeks into the semester working on her charms homework when a second year Slytherin girl grabbed her by her Slytherin tie and shoved her out of her chair onto the floor, saying "Filthy mudblood. Do us all a favor and go jump off the astronomy tower so you can stop sullying the name of Salazar Slytherin."_

_Two seconds later, Draco appeared at the girl's side and sneered, "You know, I was always taught to never hex a girl, but in this case, I think I'll make an exception. Furnunculus!"_

_Hideous boils began popping up all over the girl's face as she screamed and ran out of the common room. Draco leaned over and gave Hermione a hand up._

"_Just so you know," Draco drawled, "All Slytherins aren't like that. There are some Slytherin wizards and witches that aren't pureblood maniac bitches. In fact, Harry and I were just going to go sneak a few brooms from the Quidditch field house and play a pickup game of Quidditch. Would you care to join us?"_

"_Thank you," she whispered and then answered more strongly, "I would love to join you. Wanna teach me how to play?"_

Setting down the tie, Hermione then grabbed a small dragon figurine off of her night stand. She carefully set the dragon on her palm and watched as it pace back and forth blowing smoke out of its mouth. A small smile on her lips, she placed the dragon in her trunk.

"_A dragon?!" Hermione shrieked, "You have to fight a dragon?"_

"'_Mione, call down," Draco placated._

"_Yeah, Hermione, we'll be fine," added Harry._

"_You!" Hermione shouted, pointing her finger at Harry, "You don't talk! I am just as furious with you as I am with him."_

"_Come on, Hermione, you honestly can't blame us for this. We didn't put our names in the cup!" Draco tried to reason with her._

"_Hmpf," she breathed as she began to gather her bag._

"_Where are you going?" Draco asked her._

"_To the library." That was always her solution to any problem. "I'm going to research everything I possibly can on dragons to try to figure a way to get you two idiots out of this mess. If you would like to survive this task, I suggest you come with me."_

_Without another word, Hermione stormed out of the common room. The two boys sat in silence for a moment before jumping up to follow after her._

"_You know," huffed Harry as they ran to catch up to Hermione, "'Mione can be rather scary sometimes."_

"_I know," answered Draco, "but we wouldn't last a week without her."_

Hermione carefully placed the green Swedish short-snout dragon in her trunk next to her tie. Draco had given it to her after he had successfully survived the first task by taking advantage of the dragon's poor eyesight and short attention span.

She continued to place items into her trunk. Among them were her school robes (she could shrink them to fit her smaller first year body), several of her textbooks and favorite books, her journal, and a photo album. Then, carefully on the top of the pile, she placed a single white button up shirt. It still smelled like him. Only five days ago, Draco was wearing this shirt. Only five days ago, she put this shirt on after they had made love for the first time. She quickly closed the lid of the trunk, forcing herself to not think about it any longer.

With one last lingering look at the dormitory that had been her home for the past four years, Hermione turned on her heel and strode out of the door. Coming into the common room, she saw Harry sitting on top of his trunk.

"Ready to go?" Hermione asked, attempting to sound cheerful.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry glanced around the common room, "You know, I'm really gonna miss this place. There's no way Gryffindor will compare."

Hermione sat down beside Harry. "How are we going to do this, Harry? How are we going to deny who we truly are?"

She leaned her head against the back of his knees.

"We'll do it because we won't have any other choice," Harry answered, "Besides, we'll know the truth. We have too many memories in this house to forget who we really are."

"Remember that time Pansy was convinced you loved her and proclaimed in front of our entire year that you two were betrothed?" Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, I still have nightmares about that," Harry chuckled, "Remember that time we had that huge party down here, and Snape burst in the room in his bathrobe?"

"Merlin, and you talk about having nightmares!" Hermione giggled, "I don't care if he's head of our house or not. One should never see a professor in their bathrobe. You know Millicent actually tried to obliviate that memory from her brain? Ended up poking herself in the eye with her wand."

"Good lord, she always was a bit of a loony. You remember when Pansy let those cupids into our common room on Valentine's Day?" Harry asked.

"Are you kidding me? I'm still finding pink glitter in my clothes," she laughed, "Draco was so mad. He had to restyle his hair to get rid of all the glitter…"

The mention of Draco sobered the pair. They sat in silence for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts, trying to soak everything in.

"Well, I guess we better head to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione murmured.

Wordlessly, they stood and then levitated their trunks in front of them as they made the long trek to Dumbledore's office. Harry didn't say a word as he watched Hermione repeatedly wipe her eyes. Instead, he simply grasped her hand in his. She smiled at him appreciatively.

"Snickerdoodle," Harry said the password to the gargoyle which opened the doorway.

They entered Dumbledore's office, carefully setting their trunks on the floor.

"Well, have you gotten everything you need?" Dumbledore asked.

The pair nodded.

"Alright then. I have a few last minute instructions. First of all, you are to give this—" He handed Hermione a thick envelope. "—to myself once you are transported. Do not read it. It contains private information that I will need to know. I will know if it has been tampered with."

Hermione nodded her head. Of course she would never read a professor's private notes.

Harry meanwhile was trying to think of any spell he knew to get into the envelope without leaving any evidence. Maybe Hermione would know of one…

"Secondly," Dumbledore continued, "remember that starting your first year, the two of you did not know one another. Act accordingly. It is perfectly fine to be friends with one another as long as the friendship appears to progress naturally. If you feel as though you must speak with one another about anything related to the past four years, send an owl to me, and I will arrange for you to meet in perfect privacy.

"Thirdly, remember that you are first years. Hermione, be careful of how much you reveal that you know. It is fine to be at the top of your class, but at least spend equivalent amounts of time at the library to account for it. And Harry, I know that you excel at Quidditch and that it will be difficult to mask those skills. But you must try. Your very lives could depend on it. Any questions?"

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other and then shook their heads simultaneously. Dumbledore handed them the time keeper. They wound it around their necks.

"I have set a charm on it to the exact number of turns necessary. Once you start to spin it, it will automatically kick in." Dumbledore smiled at the pair warmly. "I am very proud of the two of you, and I have faith in you. Goodbye and good luck."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"On the count of three then?" Harry asked.

"On the count of three," Hermione replied.

3….

It wasn't too late to back out. They could tell Dumbledore they weren't ready for this. That they were just children still.

2….

But what about Draco? His life depends on them. They had to do it. They had to grow up and become first years once more to save his life and the wizarding world. It was a great responsibility, but they were the only ones who could do it.

1…

The time turner began to spin.

**Author's Note: **So, they definitely made the decision. They are going back in time! Now we get to the exciting part. For those that are wondering, this story will not be Harry/Hermione. I know that a few scenes I have written could be construed as such, and you are free to take it however you like, but this will be a Draco/Hermione story. I ship Harry and Hermione's friendship with all my heart but think that Draco is a much better match for her. Also, if you liked the flashbacks, let me know because I am planning on adding many more as the story progresses. Eventually, you'll know the entire story of Harry, Draco, and Hermione's friendship and how that evolved into a relationship for Draco and Hermione. But if you really liked them, I can keep adding more scenes so that you can get a story line from the original four years and the new years. (Did that make any sense?) Well either way, leave a review and let me know what you thought about this chapter. I'll write again as soon as I can.

P.S. Be sure to check out the new one shot I just uploaded. It's a Dramione song fic entitled "You'll Be In My Heart."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **What is this? An update? So soon? I must really love you guys. This is a longer chapter than the previous ones, and it is very heavy on flashbacks. To clarify, anything in italics is either the character's thoughts (if it's one or two lines) or a flashback (if it's multiple lines). Also, remember that Hermione and Harry have been in Slytherin for the past four years, and therefore, have slightly different opinions and beliefs about people than they would have had otherwise. As always, I don't own Harry Potter (although I do own all seven books and eight movies). Enjoy!

Traveling back in time wasn't so much painful as it was uncomfortable. As the time keeper spun, their bodies began to morph back into the children they were as first years. It felt like an odd combination of skelegrow and polyjuice potion. They both grew shorter, although the height difference was much more apparent on Harry than Hermione. Hermione's hair grew larger and frizzier, while Harry's grew shorter and much more groomed. As a result, their clothes began to look way oversized on them. When the time keeper finally stopped spinning, Harry and Hermione looked up to find themselves in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"Quick, before anyone sees us!" Hermione whispered as she pulled Harry into a nearby alleyway.

"Why would Dumbledore send us to this moment? Why not send us back to when we boarded the train for Hogwarts?" Harry asked as Hermione tried to transfigure their clothing into something more Muggle.

"You met Draco here, Harry! Obviously, Dumbledore wants to make sure that doesn't happen." She grabbed his shoulder. "Now hold still or I'll end up transfiguring you instead of your clothes!"

Once Hermione had transfigured both of their clothes to the appropriate sizes and designs, they both shrunk their trunks so they could easily carry them in their pockets. Giving each other one final once over to ensure that they had not missed anything, they both knew they needed to go.

Hermione threw her arms around Harry. "Be careful, Harry. And remember what Dumbledore said. Oh, and if you can, meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight on the first night. But don't get caught by Filch! We don't want a repeat of second year."

Harry squeezed her tight to him. "You are my best friend, Hermione. No matter how I act in the next few months, remember that. And I will certainly be in the Room of Requirement at midnight; wild grindylows couldn't keep me away. Just be careful, Hermione. This is going to work, don't worry."

With one final hug, the pair went their separate ways, Hermione to find her parents and Harry to find Hagrid.

"There you are, dear!"

Hermione quickly turned around to see her parents standing mere feet away from her.

"We've been looking for you everywhere! Don't run off again next time, darling. You could get lost!" her mother admonished.

Her father pulled out a worn paper school supply list.

"Now, we still need to get you a set of scales and a telescope," her father read as he turned to walk down the street.

"Wrong way, dad! Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment is this way," Hermione pointed.

"How did you know that?" her mother asked.

Crap. She's only been back in the past for all of ten minutes, and she's already made a mistake.

"Uh, I saw a sign," Hermione tried to cover.

Her parents seemed to buy it, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Meanwhile, Harry was having troubles of his own. For one thing, he had no idea where Hagrid was or what he was supposed to be doing. He mindlessly wandered into Madam Malkin's and was instantly struck with the memory of the first time he met Draco Malfoy.

_"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous._

_Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve._

_"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."_

_In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length._

_"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"_

_"Yes," said Harry._

_"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own or try out for Quidditch. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."_

"_How are you gonna manage to do that?" Harry asked._

"_What? Smuggle it in?" Draco laughed, "I'm going to be a Slytherin, mate. You'd be surprised what we Slytherins can do when we put our minds to it. Know what house you'll be in yet?"_

_"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute._

_"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" _

_Noticing Harry's dumbfounded stare, Draco asked, "You don't know much about Hogwarts, do you? Your parents, they are our kind, right?"_

"_If you mean magical, then yes. But they're dead. I've been raised by Muggles my whole life," Harry answered honestly._

"_Rotten luck, that," Draco looked as though a lightbulb had gone off, "Say, since you don't know much about anything to do with magic, no offense, mate, how about I show you the ropes? You know, tell you about Hogwarts, Slytherin House especially, all about magic, etc…I'm sure father won't mind since you're of magic ancestry."_

"_As opposed to…?" Harry asked, feeling as though he should be slightly offended._

"_Well, as opposed to Mudbloods, of course. Father says they shouldn't really let that sort in. Mother disagrees, although Father doesn't know that. Mother thinks that they are at a disadvantage though, seeing as they've never been brought up to know our ways. I mean, some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter," Draco explained._

"_You talk a lot about what your father and mother think. What do you think?" Harry asked._

_Draco looked surprised. "I—no one's ever asked me that before."_

"_Well, think about it," Harry answered, then continued, "So what's this Quidditch thing you were talking about earlier?"_

_Draco's jaw dropped. "Only the greatest sport in the world! Mate, you haven't lived until you've played Quidditch." He then proceeded to launch into a twenty minute speech about the sheer excellence of the sport._

_But before Harry could get a word in, Madam Malkin said, "That's it; you're done, my dear."_

_"Say, wanna meet me at Quality Quidditch Supplies later? We could buy a few things, get you some books or something on the subject," Draco offered._

"_Sure," answered Harry before meeting Hagrid outside the store._

Refocusing on the present, Harry strode into the store. It took all that was in Harry not to run up and grab Draco in a bone-crushing hug and apologize over and over again for ever dragging Draco into this mess. But it was then he realized where he was, or rather, when he was.

"Hogwarts, clear?" Madam Malkin asked, noticing the confused look on Harry's face. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, Draco was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length. Harry tried to ignore the eerie sense of dejavu.

"Hello," said Draco, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," explained Draco in a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry had forgotten how much Draco could remind him of Dudley sometimes. Don't get him wrong, Draco was his best friend, or rather, used to be, but Draco could still be a right prat, especially in their first year.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry. _Yes, only the fastest broom on the market—well, the market of four years from now._

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again. _I've only played for the past three years with you by my side._

"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry. _Well at least that part's true. There's no telling if I will actually be able to pull this off and get into Gryffindor._

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, trying not to give anything away.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to see Hagrid so he could get out of this conversation. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

_Way to be a prat, Draco. Hagrid was like a second father to you when your own disinherited you._

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry flatly.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly. _And so do you…or at least you did._

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

_Not that that should matter seeing as you dated a muggleborn for over a year._

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, I imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

Saving Harry from having to answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's it. You're done, my dear," and Harry, glad to be finished with this conversation, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," drawled Draco.

Harry nodded in reply.

A week later, Harry and Hermione both prepared to return to Hogwarts. The week spent at home had been odd to say the least. Hermione was still getting used to her eleven year old body. She frequently forgot that she lost a few inches in height whenever she would try to get something off the top shelf. Her magic, however, did not seem affected at all. She had tried a few complex spells and managed them just fine. Her parents didn't suspect a thing, or at least she didn't think they did. Hermione tried her best to be excited and act as like an eleven year old should but she often felt as if she was giving it away.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Hermione hugged her mother and father goodbye and pulled her trunk onto the Hogwarts Express, taking care to avoid the second train compartment. She knew he was in there. They could not, would not meet the same way they had first year.

_Hermione pulled her heavy trunk behind her, having not quite mastered the levitation spell yet. Passing by the first compartment which appeared to be full of sixth and seventh year boys, she opened the door to the second compartment, only to run face first into a blonde boy who was coming out of the compartment. The collision, combined with the start of the train, caused her to lose her balance, and she tumbled onto the floor._

"_I'm sorry," the boy said as he offered her his hand._

_Brushing her hair out of her face, she took his hand as he helped her up._

"_My fault," she replied, "Should've been watching where I was going."_

"_Are you looking for a compartment?" the boy asked._

_She nodded in reply._

"_Come sit with us," he said, pointing to himself and a raven-haired boy._

_The blonde boy helped her pull her trunk into the compartment and easily lifted it onto the rack above their heads._

_Sitting down, Hermione said, "My name's Hermione. And you are?"_

_The blond haired boy held out his hand. "Name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

"_Pleasure." She took the proffered hand._

"_My name's Harry," the raven-haired boy said._

"_Harry…? Are you __**the **__Harry? Harry Potter?" she asked._

_The boy looked embarrassed. _

"_Yeah," he mumbled._

_Draco turned around in shock. "__**You're **__Harry Potter?! Why didn't you tell me?"_

"_Wait," Hermione interjected, "I thought you two knew each other."_

"_Well, yeah sorta. We met in Diagon Alley last week." He cast a pointed look at Harry. "Never did tell me your last name though."_

"_Didn't think it mattered," Harry answered, "Does it?"_

"_Well, no, but blimey, mate." Draco rubbed the back of his neck. "Just can't believe I've been sitting with and talking to the Harry Potter for the last hour without even realizing it."_

_Draco turned to Hermione. "And let me guess, you must be a duchess or a countess or something."_

_Hermione laughed. "Not quite. I'm actually a muggleborn."_

_Draco's face darkened, and Hermione wondered what she had done. Harry subtly elbowed Draco. His face cleared somewhat, although he still looked a little suspicious of Hermione._

_Harry asked to speak to Draco in the hall, and the boys rose and left the compartment leaving Hermione by herself. She sat there awkward as she tried not to listen to the tidbits of conversation floating under the door._

"_Father would freak!"_

"…_isn't here."_

"_But's she's a…"_

"…_prat…doesn't matter…same as you and I…."_

"…_not what I've been told."_

"_Stop listening to your parents so much and see for yourself!"_

_A few moments later, the boys reentered the compartment with Draco looking less suspicious than he did before. They began to talk, awkwardly at first, but before long the conversation shifted to easy topics, like Quidditch, and the conversation took a more animated format._

"_I am definitely going to try out as soon as I'm able. I'm thinking about chaser," Hermione told the boys._

"_How do you know so much about Quidditch, seeing as how you're a Muggle?" Draco asked._

"_I'm not a Muggle; I'm a Muggle-born. And I know all about it because the second I found out I was a witch, I read every book I could find in Diagon Alley on anything and everything magic. I've missed out on a huge portion of my heritage for eleven years. I don't take my magic lightly," she answered with a huff._

_Draco raised his hands in the air. "Sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to offend. To be honest, you're the first Muggleborn, or even Muggle for that matter, that I've ever spoken to in my life. I'm not exactly sure how to act."_

_Hermione looked at him in shock. "You've never spoken to a Muggle or Muggle-born before? How on earth is that possible?"_

"_My family is very…traditional. They have very particular beliefs about blood purity," Draco answered carefully._

_Hermione looked at him quizzically. "And do you? Have those beliefs, I mean."_

_Draco struggled to answer for a moment before replying with a slight smile on his face, "I've decided not to believe anything until I see it for myself."_

No, Hermione would definitely not be entering that compartment. She traveled down the train until she found an empty compartment, well almost empty. A small, gangly boy was crawling under the seats.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

The boy squeaked and popped out from under the seats. It was Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor from her year who had a unique propensity to botch every potion, no matter how simple it might be.

"I've lost my toad, Trevor. Will you help me look for him?" Neville asked pleadingly.

_Great. This was what she had to look forward to if sorted into Gryffindor as Dumbledore had asked. Frog hunting with Neville._

"Sure," she replied, out of politeness rather than actual desire. Besides, maybe an ally in Gryffindor would be what she needed.

They looked in several of the compartments to no avail and decided to split up. To her great surprise, Harry was sitting in the first compartment she entered, with Ron Weasley the annoying Gryffindor git who had taken every opportunity for the past four years to insult the three of them.

Glancing at Harry in surprise and confusion, Hermione quickly said, "Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron.

Hermione looked at the wand Ron was holding. Oh this oughta be good.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. The rat stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione said condescendingly. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice, and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry as he tried to look anywhere but in Hermione's eyes.

"Are you really?" said Hermione, trying her best to act as if she did not personally know Harry at all, as if she had not spent the last four years with him practically attached to her hip. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._

"Am I?" said Harry, feigning surprise.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione as she began to ramble from nervousness. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best." The lie caught in her throat but she cleared it and continued, "I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

"_You two had better change, you know. We'll be there soon," Hermione chided the boys._

"_Aww come on, Hermione," Draco whined as he played exploding snap with Harry, "We've still got at least another half hour before we get there."_

"_Yeah, Hermione, lighten up," Harry said, never taking his eyes off the card game._

"_Lighten up?" Hermione scoffed, "This is our fourth year, guys. OWLS are coming up next year, prefects will be chosen based on our performances this year, and we only managed to beat Ravenclaw by twenty points for the Quidditch cup last year. Excuse me if I'm a little stressed."_

_Draco pulled Hermione down between him and Harry._

"'_Mione, we don't take our OWLS for almost two more years, everyone knows you're a show-in for prefect next year, and as for the Quidditch cup, we have the dream team—you, me, and Harry. We're going to be fine. This year is going to be amazing."_

If only he knew it was going to be his last year…

Hermione brushed the tears from her eyes as she hurried past Neville. She found an empty compartment, cast an impenetrable charm on the door, and sobbed into the seat. This was too much, too fast. How was she going to be able to do this if a single memory could reduce her to a sobbing mess?

After a few minutes, she had cried herself out. She carefully cast spells on herself to remove any signs of her unfortunate emotional break, and exited the train with the other students. The trip to Hogwarts was quiet, for her at least. She sat in a boat with Ernie Macmillan, a decent enough student who was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Padma Patil, a quiet Ravenclaw. She was lost in her own thoughts, and so she was surprised when she was told to line up.

It was time to be sorted.

**Author's Note: **Well, what do you think guys? I know there wasn't a lot of action in this chapter, but I'm trying to set the stage for the main plot. How do you feel about the flashbacks? Is there something in particular you want to see? Leave a review and let me know what you thought. Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hey guys! So I know that I've had a long absence lately, and I apologize. I do have a legitimate reason though. I got a bad virus on my computer that infected most of my documents. I ended up losing four of the five next chapters that I had written for this fanfic. Unfortunately, I couldn't recover them so I've been trying to remember exactly what I wrote and it just doesn't sound exactly right to me. So once again, I'm sorry and will work on getting the next chapters updated as quickly as I can.**

Hearing McGonagal call her name, Hermione bounded up to the stool and practically threw the sorting hat on her head, ready to get this over with. The hat began to speak to her mind.

"Hmm…interesting…very interesting…"

Hermione remembered Dumbledore's instructions and tried to think of every time she had been brave and/or reckless in the past four years. She thought of the time she had sneaked into the Forbidden Forest and retrieved a unicorn hair for a potion she, Harry, and Draco were trying to make. That was also the time they had found the abandoned unicorn foal in the forest. It didn't trust either of the boys, but it let her touch him. She had carefully led the foal to Hagrid who took care of it until it was old enough to live on its own. It still liked her though, and she had seen it throughout the years when she was in the Forbidden Forest for whatever reason.

"Hmm…you're fairly kind, I see."

Kind? Kind was bad. Kind meant Hufflepuff. She immediately thought of every mean thing she had ever done. The time she slapped Ron Weasley because he insulted Draco. The time she dyed Millicent Bulstrode's hair flaming red for calling her a mudblood. The time she conjured a rain cloud to follow Cormac McLaggen around after he tried to cop a feel.

"But perhaps Hufflepuff isn't the best choice for you…"

Good. It was working. She knew if she listened carefully and did exactly what Dumbledore had told her to do, she could get into the right house. They don't call her the brightest witch of their age for nothing.

"Plenty of wit, I see, and a love of learning to boot. You would do well in Ravenclaw…"

No. Not Ravenclaw. She needed Gryffindor. She cast memories about in her head of every brave and reckless thing she had done and mentally chanted Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor, eh? Well, you certainly have your fair share of courage…"

Yes! She knew it couldn't be that hard to manipulate the Sorting Hat.

"What's that I see? Cunning, too! Your ambition is startling. Slytherin would be a good fit."

Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. She's a muggleborn, remember? She thought of every myth people held about Slytherins. We're—They're evil. They are all death eaters. All bad wizards and witches come from Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.

"Not a big fan, eh? Well, better be…Gryffindor!"

She breathed a sigh of relief that she actually managed to pull it off and bounded toward the Gryffindor table, but not before she cast one wishful look at the Slytherin table.

Eleven people later, Harry approached the Sorting Hat. Much like the first time he had been sorted, the hat considered placing him in either Gryffindor or Slytherin. This time, however, he staunchly refuted any desire to be put into Slytherin. After a little arguing, the hat finally acquiesced, and he carefully took a seat a few down from Hermione.

The Gryffindor table was loud and obnoxious, and Nearly Headless Nick was no better with him showing off his severed head. The Bloody Baron might not have been the friendliest ghost, but at least he left you alone for the most part. Hermione focused on the food in front of her, trying desperately not to look Harry in the eye. Desperate to turn away, she struck up a conversation with Percy Weasley (aka the pretentious weasel) about classes. She was broken out of the conversation by Harry saying ouch. She turned quickly and looked at him quizzically.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing." Harry took his hand off his forehead. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy trying to take Percy's attention off his outburst.

Hermione knew that Harry knew exactly who Professor Quirrell was. After all, Quirrell had taught them both in their original first year for several months, until he mysteriously vanished. Some said that he was murdered. Others said he simply took an extended vacation to the Albania and loved it too much to come back. No one knew for sure.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to—everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry briefly caught Hermione's eye and quickly turned to look at the teacher's table.

Later that night, Hermione had settled in her dorm room and was anxiously waiting for her dormmates to fall asleep. Finally hearing Lavender Brown lightly snoring, she cast a muffliato charm on herself and crept out of the dorm. She sneaked up to the seventh floor, narrowly escaping Peeves on the way up.

Passing by the worn stone wall three times, she whispered, "I need a private place to speak to Harry. I need a private place to speak to Harry. I need a private place to speak to Harry."

The door appeared, and glancing around to make sure she wasn't followed, she quickly opened the door and went in. The room consisted of a small couch with a green rug underneath it and a fireplace with a warm fire cracking in it. She sat down for only a moment before Harry slipped into the room. Jumping off the couch, she ran to him and threw her arms around him.

"Hello to you, too, Hermione," he laughed gently as he wrapped his arms around her.

"We did it, Harry! We got into Gryffindor," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I know. I wasn't sure for a while there if it was going to work. How's Operation Ignore Malfoy going?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Haven't officially met him yet. You?"

"We met. Conversation took quite a different turn than it did the first time we actually met. I think we were good for Draco. I had almost forgotten what a prat he used to be."

Hermione winced. "Speaking of prats, what the hell are you doing with Ron Weasley?" She smacked his arm.

"Ow, 'Mione. Not so hard. And to answer your question, he's not that bad. Remember, everyone isn't the same person that they were in our fourth year. They're all still young—we're still young. Not everyone has formed friendships and prejudices yet."

Hermione humphed. "I still don't like him."

"Oh let it go, Hermione."

"Let it go? Let it go? He tormented all of us for years, Harry! Especially Draco."

_Draco and Hermione walked side by side in the halls, their fingers occasionally brushing each other's. They weren't quite sure how to act after their first kiss. They weren't a couple, but they were more than friends and were trying to test the waters._

_Draco turned to laugh at something Hermione had said. Ron, who was passing by, stuck his foot out and tripped Draco, causing him to fall and crash hard on the ground. Ron and Seamus Finnegan burst out laughing and high fived each other. Draco stood up and grabbed his wand, but Hermione's hand on his stilled him._

"_Ignore them, Draco. They're not even worthy of our acknowledgement," Hermione said with a sneer._

"_Not worth your acknowledgement?" Ron scoffed, "That's rich, coming from the only Muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin. How evil do you have to be for a Muggleborn to get sorted there?"_

_Without a thought, Hermione slapped Ron, leaving a deep red handprint on his cheek._

"_I can't believe you just did that," Ron sputtered, "you, you, Mudblood!"_

_The word had barely left his lips before he was thrown back by a flurry of hexes._

"_Stupefy! Condolesco! Expople! Petrificus totalus!" Draco shouted, before storming to stand right above Ron, "Don't you ever call my girlfriend that word again, Weasel, or I swear to Morgana it will be a hundred times worse."_

_Draco marched over to Hermione and wrapped his arm around her._

"_Girlfriend?" she asked, looking up at him._

"_Yes, girlfriend," he said, before adding, "That is if you want to be."_

_She smiled. "Absolutely."_

"_Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagal screeched, "Detention for the next two weeks!"_

_Draco smiled. "Well worth it, Professor. Definitely worth it."_

"He's a prick." Hermione crossed her arms.

"He's eleven, 'Mione. Try to remember that," Harry admonished her and then softened, "Besides, he'll never replace my best girl."

A gentle grin replaced the scowl that was on Hermione's face.

"Fine, be mates with Weaselbee then. But I'm telling you right now I refuse to be friends with Lilac, I mean Lily, I mean whatever-her-name-is Brown that was always attached to his hip. That little chit annoys me to no end."

"Okay," Harry answered as he took her hand, "I guess it's time to go see Dumbledore, then?"

She nodded her assent. They crept out of the Room of Requirement, and Hermione cast a disillusionment charm on them. Tiptoeing through the halls of Hogwarts, both of them to wary to cast a lumos, they finally made it to the gargoyle outside of Dumbledore's office.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, "We don't know the password!"

"Shit," Harry muttered, "Think back Hermione. What passwords has Dumbledore used in the past?"

"Bernie Botts Every Flavour Beans."

"Licorice wands."

"Gumdrops."

"Cauldron Cakes."

"Snickers."

"Lemon drops."

"Gummy bears."

"Pumpkin pasties."

The door clicked open. The pair looked at each other in success. Then, they crept up the staircase with Hermione following behind Harry. When they entered the office, Dumbledore was not to be found. Looking for the entrance to his room so they could knock, they wandered around the Headmaster's office. Hermione perused the bookshelf to see if any looked different than the others. Harry searched the walls for a notch or handle. They both had little success.

"And just what are two first years doing snooping in my office after midnight?"

Harry and Hermione whipped around to see Dumbledore standing in the back of the office with a displeased look clouding his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, need I repeat myself?" Dumbledore asked angrily.

Hermione reached in her bag and pulled out a thick envelope.

"Believe me, Headmaster, you wouldn't believe us if we told you, but perhaps this—" She handed him the envelope. "—will explain."

A curious look crossed over Dumbledore's face as he took the envelope. He opened it and pulled out a journal with a letter attached to the front. Sitting down at his desk, he read the letter silently. At first, disbelief shone on his face, and then confusion, mistrust, and finally, understanding.

"Oh my dear boy and girl," Dumbledore breathed, "Come. Sit."

After three and a half hours of talking to Dumbledore, a very tired Harry and Hermione left his office with two vials of Pepper Up potion so they would be able to stay awake in their classes. They had spoken for hours with Dumbledore, recounting their past four years at Hogwarts and everything that had transpired during it. He reiterated what the older Dumbledore had told them, to act as naturally as possible, tell no one of this, and to try not to draw attention to themselves. That was easier said than done though when one of them was the Boy Who Lived.

As they sat in Potions, Harry with Ron and Hermione beside Harry with Dean Thomas. It could have been worse. She could have been paired with Neville Longbottom, the klutz famous for making mistakes in even the easiest potions, or Seamus Finnegan, the future arsonist in the making. At least Dean got decent marks in Potions.

Snape began his usual spiel about the importance of Potions and all the wonders it could do. She tuned him out. She had heard this speech every year and practically had it memorized. Besides, on the off chance that she missed something important, Harry seemed to be taking pretty good notes.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she noticed Snape standing directly above Harry with a sneer on his face as he said, "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention."

Hermione nudged Harry.

"Mr. Potter…our new celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape asked in contempt.

Really, Professor? There's no way a typical first year would know that. Without thinking about the fact that she was supposed to remain under the radar, Hermione's hand shot up. Some habits were hard to break.

"You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

They hadn't even learned that until third year. Snape was being ridiculous. Hermione's hand shot up once more.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered with a pointed look toward Hermione who obviously hadn't thought about the fact that no first year should know the answers to these questions.

"And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

Hermione finally got the message and put her hand down.

Harry repeated, "I don't know, sir."

"Pity," Snape sneered, "Clearly fame isn't everything."

Harry sat in the rest of Potions class seething, especially when Snape continued to ignore Hermione's answers and only gave Slytherin points. Harry slipped Hermione a note when no one was looking.

_Was Snape always so prejudiced against Gryffindor? I mean, I know he didn't like me at first, but we grew rather close later on, _the note read.

Hermione carefully slipped him a reply.

_I guess we never realized it when we were the ones getting the preferential treatment. And "didn't like you at first"? He hated you, Harry. It was only once Draco got really close to both of us that he eased up on you._

Harry raised his eyebrows.

_Really? I knew he didn't like me, but he never gave me detentions or anything._

Hermione pointed to her tie.

_You were a Slytherin, remember? He wouldn't dare give a detention to anyone in his own house. Now destroy this note before anyone notices._

Hermione watched as Harry tore the note into tiny little pieces in his bag as she finished the terribly boring and easy first year potion. Well, at least she wouldn't have to worry about schoolwork this year.

**Author's Note: So they finally got resorted! I know that this chapter was rather short, but I have a lot of events planned for the next few chapters so here felt like a good place to stop. To give you a little heads up, I will be covering the next several years with about three to four chapters per year until the seventh year. There will be a lot of time jumps. I expect that everyone who is reading this story has already read the books and/or seen the movies so you won't get too confused. Seventh year will be when this story really takes off and when the proverbial s*** hits the fan for our time traveling characters. For the record, I will be as canon as possible up until the ending of the seventh book before the epilogue but after that it is fair game for me. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If there is something in this story that you want to see, such as a flashback from the original four years, let me know and I will do my best to incorporate it into the story. With that being said, thank you for reading and please leave a review!**


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